


how selfish i seem

by worstgirl



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Apologies, Crying, Guilt, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 16:15:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstgirl/pseuds/worstgirl
Summary: a vent fic I finished and edited at 5 am after pulling an all nighterwhoops~~~Jeremy was a dork, a geek, and a bit of a loser- but so was Michael and that made it alright.





	how selfish i seem

Jeremy never felt like he was enough for Michael. All he had done was hurt him, again and again and again. 

Even before the squip, he hadn't been enough. He had been too focused on Christine Canigula, the supposed perfect girl of his dreams. Michael had usually taken a backseat to his fantasies of her. He had dragged him to play after play that she was in, talked about her incessantly, and been, quite frankly, annoying as hell. 

But Michael put up with him. Because that was their friendship. Jeremy was a dork, a geek, and a bit of a loser- but so was Michael and that made it alright. 

Michael had always been there for him. Through every good day and bad day, every panic attack, his mom leaving. He always had a home with Michael, losing themselves in video games and junk food and later on, weed. 

And then the squip happened. And again Michael took a backseat. Jeremy had been swept away in the dreams and fantasies yet again- but this time, they may have started to become a reality. And Michael? Well, he was left on the shore. He wasn't supposed to be part of this new dream reality. Jeremy had hurt him, badly. Made him hate himself and made him want to die. 

When Michael told him what he had thought when Jeremy left him, he sobbed. It was just confirmation that he was a terrible friend, that he didn't deserve Michael at all. 

But Michael came back. Every time. And Jeremy couldn't help but wonder... if it were him that was abandoned in the bathroom, him that was left crying and wishing he was dead... would he go back to Michael, really? 

Jeremy wanted to say- 'yes, of course I would. I'd never leave Michael's side. I would forgive him.' 

But he couldn't say that, because honestly, he wasn't sure. And that made him hate himself even more- how could he do that to Michael?   
He didn't deserve that boy. Not at all. He didn't deserve his goodnight texts. He didn't deserve the soothing sound of his voice during his attacks and nightmares. He didn't deserve the feeling of being so in sync with him during gameplay. He didn't deserve the Pacman tattoo on his arm that matched Michael's. And above all, he didn't deserve to be saved by Michael.   
Jeremy stared down at his arm. The squip had left him with burns down his forearm, circuits branded over the Pacman ghost. They matched the ones spread across his back. 

That was what he deserved. He deserved the pain, not Michael. Never him. Michael hadn't almost let a supercomputer take over the school just to get laid. He had saved them all, even Jeremy, when he had done so much to hurt him. 

Jeremy began to cry, pulling his arm to his chest. Nothing could be the same, no matter how much he pretended it could be. He had fucked up, big time. And no matter how many times Michael had told him he forgave him, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. 

But his fears and insecurities were less important to him now. He was determined- Michael would always be his first priority. Never himself. He had been selfish enough for the first years of their friendship. 

Michael was making it difficult. Continuously asking if he was okay. If he needed anything. If anything was wrong. 

And Jeremy lashed out. He shut his eyes, his words echoing in his head. "I'M NOT A CHILD, MICHAEL! I'M FINE! I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKING PITY!" 

It had been a bad day. He had cried and couldn't breathe. Michael had left him alone that night but he couldn't blame him. But after that, he started to ignore the pain. 

But this time it was too much. The phantom voice in his head whispered at him, telling him that he didn't deserve to be alive. That everything about him was just terrible. That he should go back to the shiny happy hive mind. It was easier. The burns ached, reacting to his every slight movement. The hot tracks of tears streamed down his face. 

He found himself curled on the bathroom floor, his head in his hands. His fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he sobbed. "I'M SORRY!" He shouted to the empty house around him. "I'm so s-sorry." His voice was much quieter this time. The tears clogged the words in his throat. 

Jeremy stood up, pulling himself up using the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was standing on end, his eyes red from crying, and he could see the burns up his arm, snaking their way to his elbow.

Before he really knew what he was doing, his nails dug deep into the scars, raking down them. A small gasp of pain escaped his lips but just for a second, he forgot the guilt. 

He shut his eyes and clutched at the sink, the pain rushing through him. It hurt so much, but it was oddly intoxicating. 

He looked at what he'd done, the swelling returning. Then he pulled his cardigan over the scars and brushed away his tears. Like nothing had happened. Pretending was easier than facing it.

Jeremy just had to pretend for a little bit longer.

**Author's Note:**

> ...in answer to what I'm sure you're wondering: no I'm not okay
> 
> But I'm getting better
> 
> I think
> 
> I'll get back into writing happy stuff sometime but just not today
> 
> Stay safe (ha hypocrite) and stay wonderful loves 
> 
> ~ PlayerTwoHeere


End file.
